


Picking up some PR

by Monochrome_girl (Skarita)



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alludes to sex but 0 description, F/F, I've been sitting on this for months, RWBY Rock, So we might as well get it out there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 09:51:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13211259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skarita/pseuds/Monochrome_girl
Summary: Coco meets Velvet in one of her typical haunts. It all just works out.RWBY Rock based on my Rock!CFVY AU!





	Picking up some PR

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of writing for my rock CFVY situation from here http://showmethegreyspace.tumblr.com/post/162861236227 http://showmethegreyspace.tumblr.com/post/160293495702 http://showmethegreyspace.tumblr.com/post/159525258682

It’s a typical seedy dive, the kind of place losers and rock stars alike go to mingle and enjoy the crush of human contact, trysts and excitement. Coco’s been here before, once or twice on tour- the seediest places are the best way to guarantee she’ll either go home with a notch on her belt or blood on her fist and frankly she’s not all that concerned which. Her fans know she likes a brawl- so long as she can make friends and buddy up afterward. One time, she punched me in the face; it was awesome, et cetera et cetera. Coco’s heard all the lines and she loves it, thrives off it. It’s these kinds of places that she goes to feel alive.

At first it’s all of them, drinking crappy beer and laughing about their latest gig, Coco and Yatsuhashi and Fox. They fit together like peas in a pod, like it’s always been them and their music, but it hasn’t. Coco knew Fox as a kid and when he and Yatsuhashi started as a duo nearly twenty years later Coco gave them her card and said if they needed a drummer, they could call her. She was modelling then; dealing with shitty managers, pushy men, looking at herself on magazine covers and seeing all the blemishes on her skin they photoshopped out like perfect was something they could lie her into.

They called. She dropped everything. Best decision she ever made. Even if they’re not big time, really, if Coco’s being honest with herself, they picked up that she could be a face and they rode it until their small gigs sold out, until they had underground followers and recordings on  youtube radio channels. Her face was recognisable. They warmed up to her singing. Fox and Yatsuhashi already had the talent but Coco? She could sell it. She knew how to sell anything. It was kind of her full time job, when she wasn’t getting drunk and picking up any gorgeous people she got along with fairly well.

She loved it, loved the life. So when Yatsu and Fox peeled off to go to their hotel room and sleep (or whatever it is they felt like, Coco wouldn’t say their relationship was that defined) Coco stayed, cruised the bar, flirted. Had another drink, didn’t meet anyone she really liked until _she_ walked in.

It would have been hard not to see her. Coco already had at least three inches on most people in the room when she wasn’t wearing heels (she was) and those faunus ears bobbed above everything, but the first thing Coco really notices are her eyes. She looks lost, but determined. A camera slung around her neck, but no official passes or uniform. She doesn’t look like paparazzi, her outfit screams “indie” and Coco gravitates toward her because those eyes seem to see everything in the room at first but her. When people in the bar see the woman they stare at the ears, the camera, and then they look away, just dismissing her as another eye.

Coco hates modelling, but she loves the camera. Photographs were like a conversation, and she was good at conversation. So when the woman with the rabbit ears looks in her direction Coco leans against the bar, tips her shades and winks, and she sees her face go brilliant red and figures this girl hasn’t seen a good drink and a daring flirt in a long time. Coco orders another drink, pre-emptively, as the woman wanders over.

“Coco Adel” she says as the girl reaches the bar, offers her hand to pull her through the crowd.

She’s a head shorter but as she grasps Coco’s hand Coco feels strength there in her grip. “I know you,” she says, forgetting herself.

“I know,” replies Coco, pleased, giving the woman a once-over. “But I don’t know you.”

Camera girl squares herself, takes a breath, gives Coco a tiny, tentative smile. She’s cute, Coco is thinking, so she nearly misses it when she says her name is Velvet and offers her hand again, formally, and Coco sees long, slender fingers, piano strings of tendons.

“Velvet,” Coco tries out, being sure to add a little croon to the name as she presses a glass into the hand instead of shaking it. “I made the assumption you’re a wine kind of girl, I hope you don’t mind.”

Velvet looks confused, then embarrassed, and then finally she just laughs. Coco swears for a moment time stands still and she memorises that smile. “Wow,” she says, “well that’s probably the smoothest way anyone’s ever picked up my tab. Not that it happens often,” she adds, looking bashful, and she stares at her feet and tucks a sliver of hair behind her human ear.

“Aren’t you just the cutest thing? And that accent” Coco says, taking a sip of her beer and asking herself if she really believes in love at first sight, “that’s pure magic.”

Velvet doesn’t answer, instead very suddenly taking a deep drink from her glass. She doesn’t seem like she’d been prepared for this- the forwardness. Coco backs off a little, gives her breathing space. Leans against the bar, jacket thankfully thick enough that she doesn’t feel any of the slick of a messy countertop soak through to her skin.  

“I’m sorry,” she says suddenly, and Velvet looks up at her.

She really has beautiful eyes. They look warm and worried. She has dark circles, not the kind from lack of sleep, but hereditary, like all her life she’s known there are things to run from. Coco quite firmly decides she doesn’t want to be one of those things, which isn’t a feeling she’s had often about a lot of people- ten feet tall and bulletproof is more her style- but Velvet is cute, there’s something about her that makes her think she’s not scared but wary, and that’s a clever way to be. She thinks about it for way too long though, so Velvet’s startled look turns into more of a ‘you’re being weird’ one.

“I mean it,” Coco continues, after letting it rest too long, “We just met. You look-“

“I’m not used to just being handed compliments,” says Velvet, cutting her off. Her startled expression melts into a small smile. “But thanks. You seem…”

“Genuine?”

“Hmmm,” murmurs Velvet, leaning on one hip, and Coco cracks a lopsided smile. Girl had jokes. Velvet puts a finger to her lips and contemplates her, and Coco gets the feeling she’s being properly appraised so she makes a show of fixing her hair, tucking her bangs beneath her beret, running her fingers through her undercut.

Velvet starts again. “Confident,” she nods, sure of her assessment. “I knew you were a model once but I think maybe this is all you.”

“Velvet,” replies Coco, feeling more so mightily charmed by the woman, “I may have to buy you another drink.”

Velvet leans in and Coco smells her bodywash, some soft thing, floral, earthy, and her ears brush against the wine glasses hanging from racks above the bar with a faint chime.

There’s life in this moment, Coco remembers thinking, feeling magnetised. There’s something that matters. It became, very suddenly, a dangerous game. Any gamble you have personal stakes in is a bad one, but Coco’s never really believed letting the chips fall where they may.

“So what are you, a photographer? Journalist?”

“Here and there, management and PR, that kind of thing. Guess I’m looking for work,” answers Velvet, realising her faunus ears are touching the glassware, curling in on herself.

Coco sees the bartender, watches his expression close to a frown. He’s about to say something unkind. Coco makes a snap decision and grabs Velvet’s hand, pulls her away from the counter. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Why don’t we find somewhere comfortable,” she say, as Velvet’s fingers curl around her hand naturally, “and you can tell me more about this ‘here and there’ of yours.”

 

\----

 

They fall into bed together. It’s not all Coco’s idea, but it’s not all Velvet’s either. Something about the cold, about walking back with Velvet nestled in the crook of her shoulder, her hair tickling Coco’s cheek, her bare collar, breathing out mist and saying “Fuck mate, it’s freezing” while Coco laughs and says honey, this is nothing compared to home up north. They’ve barhopped for a little while, both warmed by alcohol now and feeling well after eating some indiscernible snacks from various places, but Velvet’s still huddled at her side within five minutes of getting out in the street.

She learns that Velvet’s from one of the southern continents, where it’s warmer, so now she’s shivering and when Coco offers her a jacket she ends up nestled half in it, the other half hanging off Coco’s shoulder. They’re still holding hands. Coco forgets her usual urge to smoke after drinking.

Velvet kisses her first.

It’s not slow or shy, as Coco expected. It’s a quick thing, but certain, as if she’s making a decision firmly in order to ensure she won’t back out of it. Velvet’s lips brush against the corner of her mouth, cold to Coco’s hot. Coco turns, the jacket falling off her shoulders, a heel pivot practiced on the runway that comes naturally as anything now. Velvet freezes, not stepping back but not forward either, like she feels like she’s done something wrong but admitting so will make it true. Coco’s hand finds her cheek, holds her there while she’s looking for the promise in her face that means it was genuine, not just some stupid thing she was doing to say she did. Lots of people have done that before- and she doesn’t care- but this girl makes her want it to matter. Coco leans in. Her lips cleave together with Velvets, who leans up and after a moment doesn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry”, Velvet says, when they break apart again for breath. She’s clutching Coco’s jacket around her shoulders, and it hangs loosely because Coco is so much wider across the back.

“For what?” Coco says, trying to help her uncoil, sounding smooth even though her heart is hammering, a chuckle in her voice. “You just officially made everyone else in those dives a complete loser.” It gets a laugh. Velvet takes her hand again.

 

\---

 

They nearly run back to Coco’s apartment, every point of contact a searing transferral of heat.  

Later they’re lying together, beneath the covers and sheltered in the bubble of warmth they made because both of them forgot to turn on a heater before they decided to fuck. Velvet starts to chuckle, curls up with her face just half obscured by blankets. Coco thinks of stroking her ear but decides better of it, lets her arm rest across the pillows where Velvet’s head should be if she wasn’t hiding her face. It’s an invite. Velvet keeps laughing.

“I can’t even begin to believe this.”

“What’s not to believe?”

“Well you’re… Kind of a rock star,” Velvet says, and because of her tone Coco forgives the _kind of_ , because she _is_ a fucking rock star, it’s no lie.

“Mm” she agrees, “Well, you’re kind of goddamn gorgeous, sweetheart.”

Velvet uncurls, lays her head on Coco’s arm and reaches for her face. Through all of this she’s tried to keep on her glasses. It’s a bit ridiculous, Coco knows. She’s used to seeing in the dark, though not as well as a faunus, and bright light gives her bad enough migraines that now she wears them all the time.

“How can you tell? Could all be in the lenses.”

Feeling oddly sentimental, or vulnerable, Coco won’t be able to remember which one it is, she reaches up before Velvet can touch them and takes them off. “It’s not.”

“Means a lot, coming from a former model,” Velvet says, and Coco gets the impression she hasn’t been told very often just how beautiful she is.

“Velvet,” she asks suddenly, “can I kiss you?”

Velvet laughs again and Coco sees it in high definition. “What kind of question is that? What were we just doing?”

“That was just having sex. This is me saying I’m looking forward to seeing you in the morning.”

That makes her go quiet. Coco wonders if she’s gone too far, that Velvet didn’t sign up for it. People expect her to be a wild ride, one night stand sort of woman, and they’re usually right, she usually is, tequila and bad choices. She expects now that she’s broken that unspoken clause that Velvet will quit her.

Velvet’s eyes flutter closed instead. “Okay,” she says, leaning forward just a little expectantly, and Coco feels life come together in her arms. She folds herself around Velvet, sunglasses discarded in the valley of sheets between them. Velvet responds, fitting herself to her, their knees bare and tangled, and her lips are soft, pressing to hers again and again. They smell of sex and sweat and booze, but it’s the right time, and from where she is all Coco can focus on is her. She’s perfect.

Coco’s totally fucked now. She feels herself getting dizzy, heady with it, and her hands want to travel but at the same time she wants to just keep this. This future she’s seeing. The feeling of Velvet, warm against her lips, her chest, her hands.

They end nose to nose, and Velvet, breathless, whispers “I guess this is _us_ then.” They’ve both sobered up some, but the breathlessness leaves Coco feeling just as comfortingly heavy. Neither of them opens their eyes until Coco speaks again.

“Well, I officially can’t offer you a job,” Coco says, “It’d be downright unprofessional.”

“Oh” says Velvet, small, and Coco threads one of her hands through the hair at the back of Velvet’s head, her long, tough fingers bumping tentatively at the bases of her ears. Velvet opens her eyes and Coco is staring. She’s figured things out already.

“Stay. One of the boys can hire you. You can do PR, right? We need that. I know Yatsu will love you the moment he sees you.”

“Oh,” Velvet says again, this time pleasantly surprised. “What about Fox?”

“He’ll love you the moment he hears that adorable accent.”

“Right” she answers, looking vaguely charmed. “Okay, I’ll hold you to that.”

Coco wants to kiss her again. There’s just something here that’s going to work out, she thinks. Velvet beats her to it, so she doesn’t need to ask.

 

 


End file.
